


I-Spy

by roswyrm



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Light Angst, M/M, MODERATE PERIL!!, PERIL!, PERILOUS PERIL!!!, Pre-Slash, also spoilers - Freeform, bc they’re both dumbasses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-07 11:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14670078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roswyrm/pseuds/roswyrm
Summary: Zolf can’t use either of his legs, Hamid’s in shock, and Sasha isn’t telling them what’s down the tunnels.So far, Zolf is having a very bad day.





	I-Spy

**Author's Note:**

> guys… go listen to Rusty Quill Gaming…… it’s so good………

The first thing Hamid says that isn't, ”Oh dear, ” is, ”This isn't good.” Zolf, not great with comfort, nudges his shoulder gently. Hamid doesn't move, but he's suffering nerve damage in that arm. It's not quite surprising. ”This isn't good,” he repeats, but he sounds… _hollow_. Zolf didn't realise how much emotion was always in Hamid’s voice until now; until it's vacant and dead. ”This is very bad.”

There's a massive helical scar down his arm that Zolf feels weirdly guilty about, despite knowing _full well_ that healing something like that without there being a scar is _far_ above his level. Hamid sniffles a little and Zolf starts feeling _more_ weirdly guilty about all of this, but he shoves that down. Hamid’s in shock, and feeling bad won't fix anything.

Zolf puts a hand on his shoulder and pats him lightly. Hamid can _definitely_ feel him this time.

Hamid stares at the nothing right in front of his incredibly fancy, incredibly scuffed shoes.

There's a loud cranking noise, and the small cavern fills with dim light. Hamid jerks away from him, retreating into a curled up ball. Sasha, tactless and too loud, addresses them from her anxious position right against a wall.

”Hey guys, I’m back, I’m just gonna try: a different corridor! Uh, no reason, there's nothing to worry about, we're all fine. How you doing, Hamid?” Hamid starts to respond, but she cuts him off. ”Great? Great. I’m glad about that.”

Hamid, undeterred by the fact that she’s already answered herself, stutters, ”I’m fine” in the least convincing way possible. 

Sasha shifts against the door awkwardly, flowing quickly out-of-and-back-into sight like a Magic Eye painting. ”Just, maybe, don't make any light, while you're here.” 

Hamid points at the elemental torch and stammers, ”You’ve got the only light.”

She shrugs, hand coming up to rub awkwardly at the nape of her neck. ”Yeah, well like, if you had a spell or something. Maybe. Don’t? Don’t do that,” The way she says it is so… awkward. In all honesty, Sasha’s always awkward, but this is the awkward she gets when she’s _lying._ There is definitely something wrong.

He asks, ”Why?” 

She continues rambling, leaving his question unanswered. ”and maybe instead, try quietness!” Maybe she didn't hear him. Zolf _did_ ask quietly. (He doesn't really want to know.) Not making eye contact with either of them, she goes on, ”I hear that can be very healing. Quietness and calm.” 

Louder now, ”Sasha.” She starts walking in the other direction. Louder still, ”Sasha, what?” 

She turns back around, looking like she'd rather chop off another finger than admit something is wrong. ”Just, y’know, gurgly noises! Weird, gurgling, creepy noises." She's trying to cover up how distressed she is. It's not working. "I’m sure you hear them, like, all the time in Poseidon temples. Just weird, creepy, gurgling noises. That we maybe don't wanna deal with, and—”

”Should we maybe dig our way back?” She looks at his leg pointedly. And okay, as much as it hurts, that’s a fair point. He could barely move anywhere when he had one bad leg- now he has two. 

Hamid interjects, ”We can't risk collapsing more stuff on top of us.” 

Zolf sighs heavily. ”Suppose so. Alright, yeah, keep looking.”

She nods, and she’s left down the other tunnel.

“Great. This is great.” There’s a small _drip_. Zolf looks to the ceiling, but there aren’t any stalactites for water to be dripping off of. _Drip._ Maybe an overhang? _Drip._

Hamid’s voice wobbles, ”I…” _drip_ , ”my arm hurts.” Zolf winces. Is he- _Drip_. He looks at Hamid’s face, and sure enough, he’s crying. 

Well, shit.

Zolf reaches out to take Hamid’s wounded arm. ”I could channel positive energy? I don't know if that would make it work again, but it should at least you feel a little better. Like a divine painkiller, or something.” Hamid makes a tiny, heartbreaking whimper as he holds his arm out to Zolf.

”Alright.” _Poseidon, if you can help his arm stop hurting, I will do pretty much_ anything. Zolf gingerly takes Hamid's damaged wrist in his left hand and uses his right to lightly trace Hamid's new scar from his wrist up to his shoulder. A dark blue light filters from his hand and Hamid shudders. The faint scent of salt water and the weak sound of crashing waves echoes quietly around the cave. Hamid lets out a breath bigger than he is. Zolf clasps Hamid's shoulder. ”Better?” Hamid nods.

”Again!” Hamid jumps, ever so slightly, at the sudden noise of Sasha’s voice. Zolf, _shut up_ , jumps too. She has a loud, cranking, elemental torch, and she’s still sneaky. It’s just not fair. Sasha goes on, ”Really good; I was just testing you guys, seeing how well you would do at, ” she rewinds the torch, ”not being loud, or nothing. Right, the third try's the charm, take after yourselves, bye!” And she’s off again.

There's a beat of silence as Zolf realises he’s still gripping Hamid’s hand in his. As he makes to release it, Sasha’s head ducks back around the tunnel’s doorway. ”Right guys, I’m just gonna go down this one, and—”

There is a horrible, echoing roar. It sounds like what would happen if you drowned a demon in acid and then listened to it scream.

 _Gurgly noises_ just might be the understatement of the decade.

Zolf directs a flawlessly deadpan glare at Sasha, who is looking very uncomfortable. ”Right, ” she tries again, ”so maybe—” 

”Oh. Oh dear. Oh, dear, oh no. No, ” Hamid’s right hand, the one that isn't damaged (the one that Zolf isn’t _still holding_ ), starts shifting into claws and scales. 

Zolf puts a hand on Hamid’s upper arm. ”Hamid, ” he mutters, making the shorter man turn to look at him, ”calm down.” 

Hamid does not do that and instead, begins to hyperventilate, his (now lizard-y) hand clutching at the bit of rock they're sitting on so tightly bits of it crumble to pieces. Sasha reaches out a hand, but stops and pulls back before she actually touches him. ”Um, I think, er, put your hands over your ears? There’s some sort of crash position for this, I think.” She looks to Zolf, eyes wide and nervous, ”Right? Hamid. Hamid? Hamid.”

Another small rock is crushed in Hamid’s ever-tighter grip, and Zolf is almost glad that Hamid can’t use his other hand. The one Zolf is still holding onto _solely because_ there are other, more important things to worried about. Shut up.

Hamid takes a shuddering breath and squeaks, ”I’m covered in filth!” Sasha breathes a heavy sigh. Zolf grins like an idiot. Hamid’ll be fine if he’s worried about how he looks. With enough emotion in his voice to make him sound like a person again, Hamid announces, ”I should fix that, ” 

Almost laughing, Zolf tells him, ”Yeah, you… you do that.” Zolf squeezes the hand he's still holding and quickly retracts it before he can think too hard about that. It’s a relief to be able to move his hand freely again, and it doesn't feel cold or empty at all, _leave him alone._

He looks to Sasha, ready to make a plan, but she’s glaring at Hamid. ”That sounds like a _great_ priority.” She says, sounding more accusatory than she has any right to be. 

”Sasha.” Her eyes dart to him, and her face softens in an apology Hamid is too preoccupied to notice. Zolf clears his throat gently, and quietly tells her, ”Go look. Try and find a way out as soon as possible. We’ll be alright.” She nods and turns to the tunnel.

There’s another horrifying roar, and Hamid squeaks, leaning into Zolf a little. Sasha looks back at them, the bravado and underlying terror evident in her eyes.

It might be undead.  
He knows a spell that would hide her.

He mutters, ”Hold up,” and begins wracking his memory for the right words. Sasha looks back at the tunnel and starts down it. ”One second, ” he says again, louder. 

Sasha, still facing down the tunnel, shrugs. ”It’s alright, Zolf.” As she starts moving, he decides it's better to make her stand there awkwardly while he tries to remember the spell than to know he’s the reason she got eaten by some undead _thing_. 

”No, I can hide you from that thing if it’s undead.” She pauses before trudging back towards him. He casts _Hide from Undead_ on Sasha, then Hamid, and then himself. ”You’ve got thirty minutes ’til it wears off.” She blinks and looks down at herself, poking herself at random points, trying to find the magic. After a few seconds, she gives up and starts back down the tunnel. 

”Cheers, Boss.” Zolf watches the light fade, and then he realises that Hamid is still dirty.

He clears his throat. ”You should probably clean yourself up some.” 

Hamid blinks. ”What? Oh.” He nods, beginning to comb his hand through his hair. 

”No, I meant with the, em… ” Zolf mimes the handkerchief flapping Hamid does when he prestidigitates himself clean. Before realising that Hamid doesn't have darkvision, and has no idea what Zolf is doing. ”The, er, prestidigitation.” 

Hamid nods again but freezes just before he reaches into his pocket. ”I normally… this hand.” he gestures weakly at his left arm, which isn't looking very much like an arm at all, let alone _Hamid’s_ arm. Zolf is pretty sure he felt claws earlier. And maybe a couple of scales. He knows that sometimes Hamid’s arms do that, but-

It’s still very upsetting.

Hamid reaches back into his jacket. ”I use both of them, and I can't feel my left, ” he mumbles and pulls out a handkerchief in a shade of _driven-snow-and-a-wedding-dress-married-the-full-moon_ white. Hamid stares at the cloth. 

Zolf cajoles, ”Well, come on. Give it a go.” Does he sound like an obnoxiously cheery instructor? Probably, but if it'll make Hamid feel better, he doesn't care so much. Hamid gives a half-hearted swipe at his face with the tissue. ”Hamid.” Hamid flinches a little. He might have sounded a bit too pitying. Still making a (weak and somewhat heart-wrenching) token effort, Hamid dabs at his eyes. When he looks back to Zolf, his eyes are watery, and his eyeliner smudged. Zolf, _who is doing this solely for Hamid, shut up,_ puts a gentle arm around him. ”Buck up, there. Could be worse.” Hamid sniffles and stares at his handkerchief. 

In the dark.

Blindly.

Zolf, who has terrible diplomacy, pats his shoulder in a way he hopes is comforting. Hamid doesn't do much of anything. 

Several minutes pass.

"Do you know any songs?”  
“Hmm?”  
Hamid looks just to the left of Zolf’s head. “I said, ‘do you know any songs’? A cheery one, maybe? It’d help pass the time, and I’d kind of like to learn a sea-shanty.” _What do you do with a drunken sailor? Put him in the brig ‘til he— oh. No, that’s… not cheery. That's actually kind of horrible._

Zolf mumbles, “Most sea-shanties are about death.” 

Hamid pales. “Well, I mean, let’s not sing one of those, then.” Zolf shrugs. 

He’s terrible at singing, anyway— his captain had once threatened to dump him overboard if he tried to sing any more songs. “Yeah, I’m not much of a singer, really.” 

Hamid sighs, but says, “Oh, that’s okay.” sounding extremely put-out. 

Trying to help, Zolf asks, “How about you teach me one of your university songs?” Hamid blinks up at him like a deer in headlights. After a brief second of looking— maybe it’s _pained_? —he ducks his head back down.

He stammers, “I don’t really remember any of those. But, um, I know some opera!" He smiles awkwardly up at Zolf when he says that, just thinking it over. His face settles into an (adorab— _nope_ , no, that's _not_ the word he's using) _annoyed_ pout. "Though, that’s mostly about death, too.” 

Zolf nods in agreement. ”And generally very, very slow…” Hamid slumps into his side and Zolf, who wasn't expecting that, almost falls over. He says something but Zolf can't translate it into actual words because there's a halfling on his shoulder. He can hear the weary, mournful tone though. He blunders through the discomfort and asks, ”Play I-spy?”

Hamid giggles. It only sounds _half_ -hysterical, which is better than expected. ”I can’t see anything, Zolf.” _Fuck._ Zolf is down both legs, and he _still_ finds a way to put his foot in his mouth. There’s a pause. Hamid, incredibly amused, announces to the small cavern, ”I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with ’D’.”

"…darkness?”  
Hamid nods, still giggling. Zolf snickers a little, too.  
”I spy, ” Zolf says, ”with my little eye, something beginning with ’N’.” 

Hamid thinks. ”Is it, ’nothing’?” 

The dwarf claps him on the shoulder and grins. ”First try!” Hamid laughs, and he sounds more like himself than he has for a few hours.

They’re probably traumatised, a little hysterical, definitely trapped underground, and each missing the use of a limb, but they’re not alone.

And ”not alone” is a pretty good way to be.

**Author's Note:**

> want some rqg and a lot of bullshit from my fucjin grab bag of a blog?? im @roswell-the-wrongdoer 
> 
> please love me.


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